Wrong Turn
by Toxophilite
Summary: "I knew I should have taken a left."  Getting lost during an uprising can never turn out well.  Written for the Caesar's Palace Prompts: Member Challenges, The Vivid Challenge.


**Note: **Hello readers. This is my second prompt in the Caesar's Palace Prompt, Member Challenges, The Vivid Challenge. I am trying to get to the point with the note this time, so the word I will be using is 'puncture'.

**Puncture-**

**5. **To make (a hole, perforation, etc.) by piercing or perforating: _He __punctured __a __row __of __holes __in __the __cardboard._

**Here goes...**

Left, right, right, left, right.

No, it was another left, wasn't it? Dammit, where is the field?

I turn around and run the other way, trying to avoid the falling debris and flames from the surrounding buildings. After District 7 joined the other districts in the war against the Capitol, hovercrafts were immediately sent in to try and calm the riots using any force necessary. Now I'm stuck in one of their raids.

I pass broken and mangled bodies in the streets. Bullet holes in some, long gashes in others. A few even have missing limbs.

_Stop it._ _Pay attention and focus on the streets ahead of and finding the field._

Rumor has it, a few rebel hovercraft are coming into a field not far from here to pick up citizens and fly them to a safer district. I'm lucky I live alone, this would be a lot harder with a family.

A bomb hits a building to my left, sending me flying back. I slam into a wall and struggle for air after the force of the impact combined with the smoke. I refuse to die today. I have to keep moving.

Squinting my eyes, I make my way through the smoke filled streets.

Right, left, right, right, left.

A girl -more like a young woman- on the other side of the street picks up a large stone and hurls it towards the nearest peacekeeper. It connects with the side of his temple, the girl looking on as he falls and doesn't get back up. She quickly runs over, takes his gun, and runs off into the direction where more peacekeepers are coming, her brown hair blowing wildly in the wind as she runs.

I decide to stay behind her, seeing as she has a gun which could mean protection for me as I make my way to the field.

She's fast though, swerving and shooting anything that has a Capitol uniform and moves. I soon lose her in the smoke, decide to stop for a moment and take a breather -proving difficult with all the smoke- and keep on moving.

Left, right, left, right, right.

Wrong turn.

A group of four peacekeepers stand at the end of the dead end road, re-loading their weapons. One has a wooden _spear._ Not a weapon you usually see a peacekeeper armed with. He must have lost his gun and quickly fashioned a spear from a fallen branch.

"Look what we have here," says the one with the spear. "What happened? Get separated from your rebel friends?"

"I have no part in this uprising. I am just trying to stay out of harms way." My voice is shaky and raspy.

"Looks to me like you're up to trouble. What's that blood on your hands from? Kill a peacekeeper? Murder is punishable by death you know."

I look down at my hands to see blood dripping from my arms to the palms of my hands. I must have been hit by debris after that bomb hit the building.

"I was caught in-" before I can finish, I am hit over the head with the spear.

I try and stand before being pushed back down. A sharp pain rips through my left leg, immediately followed by the same pain in my right leg.

The peacekeeper grins as he holds his spear over my legs. Blood from my legs turning the ground around me red.

He slams the spear into my right arm, followed by the left. He flips me over and spears through the backs of my arms and legs before dragging the tip down my back.

Flipping me over once more, I look up at the peacekeeper, grinning away as bombs explode and screams rip through the night air.

The spear slams into my stomach, ripping a hole clean through it. I scream and the man laughs, delivering another blow to my stomach a little higher than the last one.

I try and crawl away. I can't die here, not now. Not at the hands of this man.

A blow to the side of my head with the spear stops all efforts of getting away and I know it's now hopeless to try and escape.

He brings the spear over his head and wastes no time in bringing it down into the center of my neck, twisting it before pulling it out. Flashing one last grin, he runs off with the rest of his group into the smoke and out of sight.

I can't breath. I can't feel anything. I only see black spots forming and the sounds of the bombs and screams fading.

The last thing I see is the hovercrafts taking off into the sky, away from District 7. In the direction I should have went.

I knew I should have taken a left.


End file.
